Sleepwalkers Dream
by Bloodrope
Summary: In a secluded and savage community lies the bane of her existence. With her strikes totaling up she has to make the choice. Continue on the thin thread or fight it out in the wild. She's chosen. Rated M for Violence, language and potential lewd behavior. Rick, Daryl & OC in future.
1. Broken

**Title:**Sleepwalkers Dream

**Author:**Bloodrope

**Fandom:**The Walking Dead

**Genre:**Horror/Mystery

**Rating:**M

**Disclaimer:**This content belongs solely to the author (Bloodrope) and cannot and shall not be authorized without a concise written agreement acknowledging that content can be used. The characters belong to Robert Kirkman and the creators, produces and cast of AMC's The Walking dead. The author owns the Characters (Cadelyn Allyson) and minor characters that haven't been shown on the Television or the Comic books. Also that Cadelyn Allyson is portrayed by Evangeline Lilly and that the actress doesn't have any affiliation to this work of fiction. Please also note that similarities to persons living or dead aren't intended and that this is a work of fiction and to not Sue the author.

**© Bloodrope™ 2012 ®**

**Recommended Playlist:**

**Solitary Ground- Epica**

**Search and Destroy- Thirty Seconds to Mars**

**Only You- Portishead**

**Sail- AWOLNation**

**Not Afraid- Earshot**

**Don't say a word- Halestorm**

**Miss Nothing- The Pretty Reckless**

**Seven Devils- Florence + The Machines**

**Breath of Life- Florence + The Machines**

**Through Hell- We are the Fallen**

**The Gathering- Delain**

**Chapter 1: Broken  
**

"_Save yourself from all the lies of the beautiful people. It's time to run"  
_-Lies of the Beautiful People: Sixx A.M.-

She spent days living in the small second story of an abandoned 3 bedroom home. What was once lavish started to decay if it hadn't already been looted by thieves and mongrels who only wanted to survive. There wasn't any reason for her to hold malice to them. Hell, she too was surviving in this makeshift of a fucked up world. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that her childhood nightmares were now the reality she was living in. Zombies. Flesh eating, dead zombies were walking together in herds searching for their next meal. It was funny trying to imagine them sharing something that their body just couldn't not only digest but properly sustain without losing a part of their putrefying bodies.

She had witnessed firsthand the terror of the undead and being alone in a home where the windows had been shattered, the doors practically hanging on their hinges, and barely any non-rotting food, Cade was one hundred percent fucked. The only good thing going for her at the moment was the fact none of the walking undead had gotten to the second floor and those that were dead in the first two rooms had actually stayed dead.

It was sickening and sad what she had seen. The bodies of two children who had perfect circular holes drilled in between their eyes and destroying the brain from the inside made sure that they couldn't come back. There was no chance for reanimation. Hell, there wasn't even a point in trying to conjure what these two children had to go through. Wonder if they suffered through pain or were they blessed enough to be drugged. In the end though, she had a temporary safe-haven that was until her last 3 cans of expired spam would run out and her canteen of water emptied.

Cade knew that she had to leave this house, leave the conjured protection that it barely held and venture back out into the warzone where the enemy outnumbered her not just by 10 but by the thousands. Her hand stilled when the audible groan made it to her now sensitive ears. From her placement above she couldn't smell the vomit-inducing stench that came with the zombie and for that she sent up an invisible mocking prayer to the God who perhaps did or did not exist. Being religious seemed to be something that humans clung to in the time of despair or when troubling times were to come. It was apparently salvation but those of other faiths were doing exactly what the dead were. Killing. Fighting over their religion as though it were a piece of juicy bloody meat that needed to be invisibly ingested yet couldn't.

Being a stealth ninja warrior had always been a dream of Cade's but even from her adolescent years she knew that the task was almost impossible however keeping the mindset to stay away from the left side of the floor that dipped slightly from age and wear, and that would creak and moan she lifted the sheer curtain. Overlooking the beauty that was shockingly enough the earths green landscape were trees still soaring up to the sky, their trunks still fighting against this unknowable disease which housed life. Birds chirped and would fly every morning from their domestic nests to bring in their hunt and the shaking of branches and the leaves rustling against one another before being snapped back into place due to squirrels leaping now seldom caused a reaction.

Her eyes shifted downward to the vision of hells opened mouth. Cars had been left in a haphazard; doors opened and drained of fuel. Some had even been rolled onto their roofs and the webbing of glass weaved across what was once transparent and visible. Blood even spattered with remains of previous meals were rubbed and had fallen onto the ground. The undead had a matted patch of hair that was lined with crusted dirt, rips of tethered leaves as well as a color of tar that the only thing that she could imagine it be was blood. A limb was shifted in an ungodly position, the leg which bared no flesh showed the dirtied bone that should've proven life, which should've been as clear as a milks color. Shafts seemed to be broken towards where the calf muscle would've been and gave the undead woman it appeared a drastic limp. The groaning and moans seemed to however become louder more pronounced and from her placement it wasn't just the one that was having a hard time walking.

There had to be more. While the sun was still up Cade thought about checking below but it would cause more harm than good. One of the wooden wardrobes had blocked off the stairs from the second floor and that was by her own doing. She didn't want to stand out; all that she wanted was for the dead to leave her, to give her peace even if it was for a short while. Wasn't she granted that much?

Remints of glass shattered and it all seemed to go straight to hell for her. In her mind she was conjuring elaborate and even at times silly ways for her to escape should the time come. Now it was that time and the days of planning and being meticulous she had nothing. Her mind drew to a blank and with a shaking hand her palm pressed against the harsh contours of her face.

_Calm down. You can do this; you've done this for weeks. You know how to survive. Think. What is the first step?  
_

She immediately thought of the backside of the house where her motorbike was. Her keys were in her pocket, where they always would be and there was still at least a quarter of a tank. It should get her far away from the dead. It would have to.

_Good. Now before you get to the bike what do you have to do? _She ran it through her mind and pulled on her biker boots, locking the buckle across her foot and tucked the starting to ravel hem into the hole. Grabbing her satchel with the remaining food, Cade grabbed the throwing knives and attached the leg sheaths to her upper thigh where their sharp counter-points would nestle against the fabric. And finally she grabbed her 12 gauge shot-gun. Technically it should've held the 6 rounds, but there was only 3 and that included the one if she so needed to use on herself.

It made her remember her brother, the marine who should've been there with her. Who should've taught her better, hell, she should've listened better. Guns weren't her thing, she remembered. She didn't have the guts to pull the trigger and end something's life. It was why she carried knives. Not because they were silent but she could do more with them. Cut her hair, slice her food, throw them at suspecting targets and darkly kill the undead if they crossed her path.

_You're such a hypocrite Cade. Being afraid of taking a life and yet you're ending many.  
_

Such patronizing and true words struck hard but there wasn't any time for her to try and justify to her brain that these undead were still people. She wouldn't have time to grab the lantern nor would she be able to grab a blanket. Time was of the essence. Cade could hear the rutted footsteps and the muted groans from behind her make-shift barrier wall.

Creaks from her footsteps had to alert those below of her presence as she locked the door that held a decaying man and what she assumed to be his wife. Matter sprayed above and spewed in an arc where crusted red glued itself onto once floral wallpaper designs. There wouldn't be a second glance at the bodies until she opened the French doors and peered down towards the balcony.

Below held at least an 11 foot drop and taking a deep calming breath she took quick glances towards the wood line which was eerily empty. A quick turn towards the lock door was her own goodbye to the ratted farmhouse that she had called home, even if it was with its previous tenants. Her lithe toned leg crossed onto the white wooden barrier, nails gripping the bark. It was as though she was scared to jump. But it wasn't because she'd be jumping over a foot story building down onto the non-caressing earth but because of what could be hiding. There would always be that chance that a half-rotting flesh eater would be hiding, awaiting to strike like a python having found its prey. Its appearance could always vary from a face that was missing half of the once supple and toned flesh which could currently show the bones and the ragged teeth that would hold remains of its previous "meal" that would be logged into its teeth or everything about the undeads face could be more gruesome, more horrid.

That and the fact that the stench of rotting flesh never did sit well with her stomach. She would sit on the flat two by four mark of wood and listen. Steps were groaning and creaking and the patting against walls and growls started to become louder, more pronounced. It wouldn't be long until the ratting of mix-matched clothes and shoes would be hitting against the wardrobes unlocked doors.

"Fuck, well big Guy, if you're taking prayers after this shit let's just be clear. I am **not **dying yet. You better mark that down cause I'm jumping," she hushed in a harsh crisp breath.

There wouldn't be any point in closing her eyes and hoping for the jump to happen, that would be just comical if she did though, however she pushed her body off and watched her braid from her peripheral flow up into the sky.

The ground wasn't as sweet when she landed. Her knees would bend to absorb the force and her body would roll into the gritty and dirty grass and soil. Her breath was lodged in her mouth, locked as though a waiting to see if she'd catch any of the attention of hunters that were out. Her neck would whip behind her and she'd just be able to see the last form of one of the undead heading up towards with the rest of the herd. A silent thank you would be sent up into the puffy and ivory clouds into the heavens as her legs snapped to unlock themselves and taking her towards the blocky shadowed motorcycle that wouldn't really give much protection if any lingering counterparts decided to linger.

Her hands knuckled around the chain, pulling out the silver key and fitted it into the center of her hopeful savior. Her right foot kicked the starter while her left rose up the stand and the right hand gunning the throaty throttle. The tempered snarl and roar of her bike made her smile despite her situation. The two sets of index fingers and middle digits released the brakes and her body thrusted forward and away from the home.

While rounding the corner she cursed. It should've hit her that the cars would be blocking her and it did pass her thought but the section also held 4 roaming walkers that all had their cloudy and undead eyes trained on her.

"Mother-chucker and Saint Christopher."

There was no way that she could pull out the shot-gun. Not without attracting the attention of the others who were too busy lodged at the stairs. Weaving the wheel she rounded and fumbled at her side for her long blade skinning knife. It wasn't her ideal weapon; all that she hoped was that she wouldn't need it to gut a fish or game soon before she could sterilize it.

The bike idled and growled louder than the 4 together as they inched limping towards her. A man who had seen better days had his gut liquefying out from a large gash was the closest to her by a few good feet. As his mouth started to chop

and the teeth started to grind, his arms lifted into the air in attempt to grip and she slashed her arm out towards his missing eye socket and pushed up into the stem of his brain, disconnecting it from the rest of his body and ultimately silencing him for the last time. The others she didn't need to take out as they were now away from the cars and wouldn't have enough time to make it towards her.

The motorcycle weaved and she took off towards the lonely and desolate road with a passing thought.

_No place was safe._


	2. The Hunt

**Title:** Sleepwalker's Dream  
**Author:** Bloodrope  
**Rating:** T  
**Fandom:** The Walking Dead  
**Disclaimer:** As you can probably tell I **still** don't own anything except my overly worked imagination that rarely allows me to sleep. So credit goes where credit is due, please don't sue.

**Playlist Recommendation:  
**Cold blooded- The Pretty Reckless  
Raise Hell- Brandi Carlile  
Amaryllis- ShineDown  
Make me wanna Die- The Pretty Reckless  
This is gonna Hurt- Sixx A.M.  
Letter's from the Sky- The Civil Twilight

_There's one thing you must understand you can't trust a cold blooded woman.  
-Cold Blooded: The Pretty Reckless-_

The wisps of trees passed Cade as she rode through the crowning evening. The splashes of auburns caressing with royal and faded purples that had spurts of white and rogue pinks were elegantly painted across the canvas sky. With the softened dull of the motorcycle's engine and not even making it to second gear, she was cautious of everything that could play demeaning tricks to the naked eye.

The undead seemed to be scarce; fewer seemed to be traveling in packs in the specific vicinity in which she was driving through. The dip of her front tire before the shocks were able to elevate the inclination made tracks into the sticky grass. Roads still were blocked and by her own thought process and through elimination of common logic, Cade was able to make two valid points to herself. First was that where there were cars were bodies. She couldn't take the chance in one of the resurrected dead taking a swipe at her when she wasn't expecting it. There was no metal protection surrounding her like a vehicle, to block temporarily any of them from taking a hold of her and with their bony and multi-coloured pieces of flesh cut into her own ivory.

Rumours of the infection were kept at a low profile. She could remember her brother trying to prepare her for what was to come; for the impossible monstrosity that would be ravaging and tearing apart the façade of society that was bestowed upon mankind. At the time, even Cade believed what was being vaguely teleprompter for the reporters to announce to the citizens were false, a rouse implicated by the government to test if a Milligram report could be possible. However it would be until later when she believed the hinted words of her brother.

Which lead to her position now. Alone. Purposely alone until **she** decided she was comfortable to be in the hands of the community. With guards laced around the perimeter, guns held in their stronghold grips and the inability for the freedom that she had been previously granted in the former life. To be caged and surrounded by individuals whom she couldn't identify with as torture and the inability to freely speak without restitution was indeed a culture shock. But now? She was silent, she was tracking and she was enjoying the world despite the few blemishes that had been picked at.

Her "home" for the past few days would be crossed out from the map she had sniped, the home where the children rested peacefully in their beds and their parents or guardians brutally ended their own lives. There was no point in trying to delete the vision that was now branded in her mind; the only thing she felt she was able to take from the situation was she had a place that was semi-peaceful. A place that was now overrun shockingly enough.

The motorcycle ran a few feet away from the roads, gripped to balance between the sloped meridians. Her pesky low-fuel gauge light had been glowing for over a half-hour but she couldn't decide the best choice. Should she stop and have the naysayer in her conjuring potential outcomes where the undead shuffled from their hidden slots as she was trying to find a vehicle that had fuel? Or would the outcome be the complete opposite. A life-threatening gamble of blackjack. It amused her that she could think of casinos and card-games in this dire moment but it did alleviate some of the gut-wrenching doubt.

Booted soles printed themselves into the uncut grass while the throttle was shut and her left foot kicking out the stand. Chapped lips pursed into a scowl across the now wind burned flesh of her once softened and alluring skin, while dementing a plan started to form within the convex mind.

It seemed that her scent had drifted towards the undead beings with the casted wind and that the motor of her bike also had started to draw them towards her. Currently she couldn't see them behind the mass bulk of vehicles but their morbid stench of death started to bring forth the imitation that she'd start to heave and her gag reflex to quickly work to avoid such a process. With quick movements she removed herself from the bike and stalked behind an older version of the F-150 King Ranch, the back of the bed opened and its once valuable items sodden with liquid and severe stages of mold.

While there was still a maximum of 4 hours left of daylight being in such a compromising and dangerous place with no shelter seemed to be the stupidest thing that Cade had gotten herself into this time. Currently these abandoned graves that had once belonged to living people could be used as protection, she felt wrong using the items of the dead for her gain. However at the same time she believed it was wrong; her common sense kicked into check that without the dead she'd not have shelter, perhaps at best stale food and hopefully some water to fill her canteen.

Fingertips brushed across the auburn paint that had been spotted with water stains and pollen left-over, she pulled out one of her blades, the scarred fingers wrapping around the warm and comfortable hilt. The monstrous groan of a few dead shuffled at a straggled pace while her own heart beating unconsciously loudly and quick. The adrenaline began to rejuvenate her veins giving a surge of strength, awareness and also made her jumpy as fuck.

_On the count of 3. Not before. Not after. _

The gurgling and the groans while the bodies forced themselves onward excited for their "well-deserved" meal of the 'who the fuck knows when' fought to get passed the lanes. Bumps against the metal side of the truck gave her an approximate time in which they'd make it to the taillights and find her.

_8 steps…7…6…_

Soon they should be making their sluggish and imperfect steps towards the back door.

_5… 4… 3…_

They inched closer their decayed and rotting chops that were stained black with remains of their "meals" across the barely visible muscle that would've been the tongue on a live person. Pursed lips with flaking skin opened to inhale oxygen. She still couldn't stomach their stench if a person wanted to even call it that. Her gag reflex would start to quiver and the overflow of salt would pool in her mouth and it wouldn't be soon enough that she'd be vomiting. Such a smell a person can't forget. It stays, it haunts and it lingers everywhere taunting ones senses.

The shadow of the undeads' head peaked from the taillight of the truck, its mortis coloured hand a dewy fade of green grass that had started to burn from the suns powerful rays. As covertly as she possibly could to not draw the attention of the zombie, Cade exhaled softly. Despite the fact the acute senses that should've been impossible for one of the dead to catch, turned and the manically jaws started to grind and make clicking sounds and enamel and sharp canines echoing in the semi-quiet area.

As it started to turn towards her she felt a pull across her leather jacket and it caused her eyes to widen. Had she miscalculated? She could've sworn that they were on the right side as she had her back against the tucks latch. Such a rookie mistake was going to get her killed while the groans of hungered beasts swallowed her exits.

"Fucking shit," she cursed kicking out her right leg and thrusting it into the undeads kneecap. She could hear the being buckle onto the ground and attempted to grab her other sheathed knife to pull out when she had to make the choice.

Kill the one on the ground or the one that was inching itself closer to her its grimy hands curling with anticipation and desire. Droplets of an unknown substance started to run down the corner of its mouth. The first step was always the one that would define how she'd live. While this wasn't her first kill, it didn't mean that she enjoyed taking the lives of those who had once **been** alive.

The force as she tackled the tip of the knife to hit the side of the woman's face broke into the skull with a spluttering gasp of shock and cutting into the brain thus ending her life for good. The grip on the knife loosened and the plumping sound of the body smacking sickly onto the pavement had now been pushed into the back of her mind. Now she had to deal with the crawling and overly eager zombie who too wanted her tasty and alluring meat. The heel of her leather cowboys inched backwards onto the filth car infested graveyard, a fresh line of gooey onyx withering towards the slope. Slowly she knelt, her senses trying to locate if there were more heading in her direction. The silence of shuffles remained exactly that. Non-existent.

The Zombie's lanky decaying flesh held patches of flesh lingering off near the elbow curvature. A visible chunk of a bite that had caused this man's infection to spread looked somewhat cracked. The skin, that remained, was flaky and dry; Muscle tissue for what it was worth still held intact allowing for movement but slowly started to liquefy and show the marrow white bone. His clothes were ratted, filled with remnants of previous kills and it showed. Skin, blood and from the right corner of the pant seam patches of hair strands were glued with once liquid life.

The Hollywood desire to strut towards its undead form and crush its puny skull with her boot was ever-tempting but the consequences of such an action didn't outweigh the regret she knew she'd have to later face. The first would be trying to get the horrid and pungent scent off her boot but the worst would be having to clean it. That thought of finding a cloth and wiping away brain matter and thickened blood didn't appease to her. Swiftly and stealthily, her blade sliced the middle of the man's scabby and rotted face clear off, the top portion that held a matted scalp made a shallow thud into the cushion of the grass.

Cade let out a "tsk" while keeping the blade to her side. Shuffling could currently be heard further ahead, however the labyrinth of cars kept them at bay for the time being. She had a least an hour before they came her way and around 3 before dusk. It seemed that her luck was starting to wane since she left the compound, leaving her cage of an existence. Nevertheless she didn't regret her bold and infuriating actions. The world might've gone straight into Lucifer's ass-crack and human existence was neither here nor there but it wouldn't stop the desire to explore. Those foolish beliefs, desires and actions would one day get her killed, that Cade knew but she accepted the fate in which she has chosen.

Not now. She **couldn't** go back now. Just a little bit longer. Then she can make her way back, willingly into her cage. But right now she had to stick to the present. Fuel. It was something she still required and water would be nice if she was to survive and quench her stomach into believing it was content with nothing. Dying and being some meat rack on a human eating binge was also not an option. Her soles dug into the weathered and cracked tar, soft pops of gravel rolling underneath before their momentum eased into a standstill.

With the hope that the previous owner of the King Ranch wouldn't mind her invading his or her precious vehicle, her fingers opened the closed bed and ruffled through the large army-like bags. Within its enclosement were mostly clothes, a passport that she didn't open and a half of a bottle of water.

Gods' small fountain of youth in a plastic bottle that was begging to be absorbed; to have the liquid caress her inner mouth before lathering her parched esophagus.

_Bottom's up lass._

Those were the words to live by, actions to learn from the savage world to pass down to. As though the heavens had opened and the angels started their opera without their stringed instruments, Cade gulped the liquid. Its cool counter was liquid bliss. Though she knew that she had to start moving. Without another second wasted she whispered a soft thanks to the owner who was probably officially put down or was roaming the earth, craving and desiring like the heard heading her way.

-† Sleepwalkers Dream †-

Siphoning fuel was always a dragged on nuisance, leaving the toxic taste of gasoline on her tongue and despite trying to remove all of it by chucking spit towards the burnt ground it was nevertheless there. The bottle that she had that was now free of clear liquid was filled to the brim in a gold hue of gasoline. It's odour had to be attracting attention though. That too was a pain.

_Stupid girl! Did you _really_ think that this moronic plan of yours was going to work?!_

_No. The worst that can actually happen though is I have to make a run for it you know._

_Ha! You outrunning what 50 munchers? Big fat chance. _

_Could always climb up a tree, wait it out. _

The silence that flooded her mind wiped the internal conversation between her unfiltered mind and her more passive logical subconscious.

It was 40 yards to her motorbike and 30 or so miles towards the compound. If she was lucky she could make it there early dawn but with some uninvited guests trailing behind.

_Well, they are in much need of a party so why not?_

**Author's Note:** Chapter 2 of a story that I'm just starting to have picture through my head. Wow. Well I would love to hear what you guys think of this both here and on Tumblr. I love the response that I've gotten on Tumblr for some of the work that I've posted and it really does humble me. On a more serious note, if you haven't heard **Erisanddysnomia** has a new story with our favourite Protagonist and Redneck (Sways around with a fan) and I'm her Beta for her sequel called Blame it on Bad Luck. Great stuff there.

Okay now before I get so far invested in this Note that probably none of you are going to read (Sighs) as of pairings to be freaking honest I don't know where that's going. I'll let my kooky dog decide for me with a deck of flash cards... Or if you want send me a review, comment, private message and I'll see what I can do to make your dream come true. Got myself an outline of what I think should be what I'll follow. Oh! And No, I have not abandoned INFxCTED. That'll be on a mini hold until I get my ass on check with Solara before she meets anyone (cough -a certain redneck- cough) so yeah. Love for reviews, reblogs, all things like that.

I.L.U.

Bloodrope


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